


What Rose Did at School

by mandykaysfic



Category: What Katy Did - Susan Coolidge
Genre: Epistolary, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-13
Updated: 2014-04-13
Packaged: 2018-01-19 04:07:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1454791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mandykaysfic/pseuds/mandykaysfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rose Red shares tales of life after dark in Study No. 5 via a series of letters written to her friend Charlotte. Over the course of a year, Rose and Mary experience many things together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Rose Did at School

_Hillsover, April, 1868_

Dearest Charlotte,

I arrived safely back at The Nunnery to commence another year. As you suggested, I begged Papa once more that this should be my last, but alas, all he would say was that he would think about it. He did smile cunningly and tip me an extra ten dollars, so I remain hopeful.

You may recall I engaged Mary Silver to be my room mate this year. She and I have been assigned to No. 5 in Quaker Row. It is a delightful room. We are most satisfied as we knew the incident with the ink, the one I shared with you during the holidays, would prevent Mrs. Florence from giving us No. 6. Indeed, I feared I would find myself rooming in Shaker Row because of it.

Two new girls, sisters from the West, have No. 6. Their names are Katy and Clover Carr. They are quite the pick of the new girls. You simply would not believe how many stiffies there are among them this time. Clover has eyes just like Sylvia's and I confess I'm a little in love with her already. But, dear Charlotte, you'll never guess. They have a wash-stand in their room. It's on account of an illness Katy suffered. Mrs. Florence had to give her permission. I have written to Papa to ask him to get permission to have one in No.5. If you speak with Sylvia, ask her to mention it to him as well. Remind her Mrs. Nipson is still here and still watching us in the wash-room as Sylvia often complained. I declare that woman gives me goose-skin. I am certain I do not require supervision to wash myself and anyway, you know it is not her gaze I wish upon me.

I have had no chance to pass on your messages to Alfred. In fact, I have barely done more than nod to Berry from the window of No. 6 when I saw him whilst visiting with the Carrs. He was alone at the time, which as you know is most unusual. He and your brother are almost closer than twins.

Please write soon,  
Your affectionate Rose Red.

 

_Hillsover, May, 1868._

Dearest Charlotte,

I am sorry it has taken me so long to thank you for the parcel you sent upon hearing Papa obtained permission for us to have a wash-stand in No. 5. Quite half the girls have them now and it has been hinted that Mrs. Florence is planning to provide them for all the rooms. Mrs. Nipson will surely have to find someone else to supervise at wash time. There is much competition amongst us nuns to see who has the nicest wash-bowls and pitchers. Lilly Page is completely set upon her lilies, although everyone else believes them rather ordinary. Esther Dearborn's set has the cutest little ducklings on a pond and Ellen Gray has a pair of kittens with painted blue eyes that match her own. I am most content with my wreaths of roses and think them prettiest of all. 

The embroidered cloths and towels you sent match delightfully. I have done as you suggested and separated the special ones from those for every day. One of the maids now brings me up some hot water on Saturday nights after Mrs. Nipson has done her rounds. Sometimes I use the scrubby cloth first and then the soft one, sometimes the other way around. The scrubby cloth does make me tingle, but I think not so much as when you used yours on me. I am following your advice with regard to Mary. She seems content to watch me for the present, but I confess I cannot wait much longer to invite her to play and then I will not have to wait until the holidays when I see you again. In the mornings, we take it in turns to be first to wash and just this week I noticed how careful she was to position herself that I might view her clearly. The water is always cold in the mornings and it has the usual effect upon both of us. 

I eagerly await your next letter,  
Rose Red.

 

_Hillsover, June, 1868_

My dearest Charlotte,

As always your letter was a bright spot in my dreary existence. I have been in trouble with Mrs. Nipson, Miss Jane and Mrs. Florence. Mrs. Nipson objected to my window decorations on the occasion of Senator Brown’s death. They were perfectly respectable – black, you know, and weeping willow. As to the other, Mrs. Florence was most unfair. I had the brightest idea how to visit No. 6 during silent study hour. You may recall the sets of drawers back onto each other between each pair of studies. I had taken my lower drawer out and pushed the Carrs' matching drawer into their room. I crawled part way through the space, but alas Miss Jane came along and spoiled that plan. She startled me and I became quite stuck. Then there was a fuss over getting me unstuck. Mrs. Florence gave disobedience marks to Katy and Clover as well, even though it was not the least bit their fault. I pleaded on their behalf for quite two hours, but she would not listen. I do not like her half so much as I did.

The wash-stand has been a blessing in disguise with this early heat for I was able to persuade Mary to allow me to cool her down. I used the soft white cloth and sponged her face and hands to begin with. She has the softest elbows of anyone, for she let me do her arms as well, all the way to her shoulders. I finished with the nape of her neck, for you know there is nothing more cooling than a damp cloth there when one is hot. Right now, I look forward to putting my hair up for good. I must tell you I could not resist placing the tiniest of kisses there when I finished, but as she giggled in that gentle way she has and kissed me on my cheek in return I know she did not mind. I do not think she blinked once when she watched me cool myself down. 

It was easy on the next hot night to offer her the same again and in honor of one of our times together, I had her lie stretched out on her back just as you made me do. After I washed each bit, I kissed it. Her forehead, her eyelids, her nose, which made her giggle again. I left my lips against her throat for a moment or two when it felt like my chest might burst and I felt her pulse speed up. Then I got an almost uncontrollable urge to place my mouth upon her breast and suckle like a baby. Was it like that with me for you? I do hope so. I behaved with great restraint, difficult though it was, and I know you are laughing at me right now as you know how impatient I am, but I did not do it. I did tease her by soaking the cloth with water and squeezing it carefully over her bubbies, then patting them quickly before the water had a chance to run onto the bed. I will admit I followed that up with the quickest of kisses to the pink tip of each breast, but that was all. I offered her the cloth and to my delight, she copied my actions. Well, except for squeezing water over my breasts. She did not go so far as to do that, but she did wash them gently, blushing wildly as she did. 

Your not so lonesome,  
Rose Red

 

_Hillsover, July, 1868_

Dear Charlotte,

The S.S.U.C. is progressing famously, thank you for asking. Katy makes a superb President. She and Clover have such cunning ideas for our entertainment. I find myself vastly amused every Saturday afternoon. We played “Word and Question” again last weekend. Mary is gaining much confidence with her answers and produced a pretty poem on her last attempt. 

We celebrated the National Independence with our usual gusto, although we missed Mrs. Florence. Mrs. Nipson took the orders for candy to Boston herself. After living on pudding three times a week, we were all quite extravagant. I had to take to my bed for a day, but I was not the only one. I believe it was the French Plums that upset me, but it may have been the Figs. Who knew there were so many figs in a drum?

Summer is upon us and Mary and I continue to find new ways to counter the heat. We have been fairly sweltering, but the cool water helps immensely. Having the wash-stand in our room is a boon and a blessing and I do not remember how we did without it before. Lying on the bed in a wetted chemise is one way to make life bearable. It is most fun for one to put the chemise on dry and lie down. The other then slowly pours the water a little at a time over her bubbies and belly while both try not to laugh. Together we spread the wetness around until the front is soaked. White cotton is the best as the material is fine enough for the pink of one's breasts to show through. That had quite an effect on Mary. The very first time she drenched my chemise, her eyes opened the widest I'd ever seen them and she did what I had longed to do to her. She placed her mouth over my covered breast and sucked me in. I felt those wild flutterings deep in my belly and when she stopped, I simply had to do the same to her. In spite of this, I will be glad when the weather cools.

Your hot and affectionate,  
Rose Red

 

_Hillsover, August, 1868_

My dearest Charlotte,

Autumn vacation is just around the corner and I cannot wait to see you again. I am glad you will not be coming home at this time. It would be too frustrating to miss you. 

The speeches on Commencement Day were of the same quality as always. I am sure somebody must be interested in “The Influence of a Republic on Men of Letters”, but it is not any us nuns. The music was fine and it was a treat to look at the latest fashions as worn by the attending ladies.

Our wreaths were the longest yet and President Searles when he inspected them said both did us credit. The Symposiums beat us, but only by two yards. We managed a tolerable nine hundred. Katy and Clover enrolled with us Crater girls. I was a little afraid they may have felt the tug of family loyalty and joined the Symposiums to be with Lilly. We did not see much of Alfred or Berry during this time, but I have asked Alfred if there is anything he wants me to pass on to you. Your mother is sending a parcel with me. I believe it contains new gloves amongst other things. 

It is so dull here now the excitement of Commencement is over. Even Mary and I have found little to liven things up between us. We mostly tumbled into bed and slept the sleep of the just as you would not believe how tiring weaving oak leaves can be. I did find it relaxing simply to lie with my head upon her bosom, drinking in the leafy smell that clung to us all, and fondle her in the most laziest of ways with only my fingertips. In turn, she played with my hair and stroked my back where she found a most delicious spot about half way down that sent the most delightful shivers right through me every time she touched it. I swear she is turning into such a minx, for she would wait until I was almost asleep and touch me there again. You will have to see if you can find this place for yourself when I get to Boston.

In eager anticipation,  
Rose Red.

 

_Hillsover, October, 1868_

Dearest Charlotte,

I miss you so much already. I prevailed upon Mary, Katy and Clover to console me and they have done just that. Katy and Clover gave me the sweetest bottle of cologne and Mary petted me in just the way I like best. Now I am sure I will be able to hold out until we meet again. I can hear the laughter in your voice as you call me a wicked tease, and maybe I am, just a little.

My new winter bonnet, the black velvet one trimmed with pink, is highly envied. Clover's is exactly the same shades and we will be just like twins when we walk together. Mary's bonnet is the softest dove gray and suits her remarkably well. Katy's bonnet is like Clover's but trimmed with blue. I am sure you can picture us exactly as I have described my friends to you so often.

There have been several changes at the Nunnery. The first is the most distressing. Mrs. Nipson has nailed thick cotton over all of the study windows, leaving only a small place at the top for the sun to come in. It's perfectly forlorn, not being able to look out. I would love to write to Papa and beg him to let me come home, but I an sure he would tell me to “stick it out”. He has always said he wants his daughters to be strong, independent women.

The second change is we have a new dining room. It is much bigger than the old one, so now we all eat together. Alas, we still dine on pudding three times a week, but we are hopeful as the weather gets colder that this will change. 

And now I must share with you how Mary managed to surprise me. Naturally we no longer need to wet ourselves down as the days and nights are pleasantly cool. Instead, we snuggle under the linens and enjoy the warmth of each other's arms. Last night, she had her night-dress on and was sitting up in bed a good five minutes before I finished getting changed. When I finally joined her, she blushed and stammered in her funny way and eventually managed to tell me she'd brought back a present for us to share. She made me guess three things, but it was not chocolate, hand cream or soap. From beneath her pillow she drew forth a brush. A brush, I hear you say, what's so special about a brush? Oh, Charlotte, it has the softest bristles in all Connecticut. They are more like those on an artist's brush. They could not brush a tangle from one's hair, but they provide the thrilling sensations when brushed over one's body. 

Mary boldly undid the buttons and drew my night-shift down to my waist. She looked at me for the longest time and then her lips curved in the tiniest smile as she gently stroked the brush over my face, my neck and then my shoulders before she finally touched the bristles to the places I most wanted her to. She covered each breast most thoroughly before firming up her touch at the tips until they stood right out and I fairly gasped with pleasure. She made me lie face down and brushed my back, including that spot, all the way down to my bottom and tops of my legs. I wasn't allowed to return the favor then. Instead, she cuddled up behind me and I fell asleep with her hand on my breast. I have insisted she share the experience and tonight it will be my turn to stroke those soft bristles over her fair skin. I intend to include one of these brushes in your Christmas parcel as I know you will enjoy it just as much as we do.

Your loving Rose Red.

 

_Hillsover, December, 1868_

Dear Charlotte,

The Nunnery should be renamed The Sanatorium. Not only have a number of nuns have succumbed to illness, but Miss Jane has caught a heavy cold and been confined to her room. Most of us are pleased she is so ill. Silent study hour is a little less silent. Katy surprised us all by venturing into the lion's den and emerging unscathed, not once but many times. I declare that girl is a saint. Miss Jane hates me like poison so I will not be visiting her at all. 

We are sad the Christmas break is so short this year as most of us will be unable to go home. This means we are counting on our Christmas boxes to be extra special. I have written to Sylvia hinting a new umbrella would not go astray, and that one of Cook's fruit cakes would be most welcome. Some more candles would also be handy as it gets dark very early. Mary and I have found how much more attractive things look in the flickering light and we leave them burning for quite some time longer than we should.

You will be interested to know both Mary and I are now quite the experts at wielding her special brush. I found a spot behind her left knee that makes her curl up with delight, as much as that place on my back does me. If I brush it just so and follow that up with a kiss, she practically melts into a puddle. One night she opened her legs and let me brush her quim, where the hair is so different in texture to that on her head. I had much fun, brushing this way and that until she was shaking all over. She needed a few minutes rest until she had the energy to do the same for me. It felt very different than when I brushed there myself. When she cunningly kissed my mouth and then my breast all the while running the brush over me, my insides boiled over like a pot of water on the fire. I am glad Papa insisted I stay on this year.

Yours affectionately,  
Rose Red

 

_Hillsover, January, 1869_

Happy New Year, dearest Charlotte.

I wish to report Miss Jane has recovered from her illness and is once more teaching classes and making our lives miserable. Now that is out of the way we may get onto more pleasant topics.

None of the Christmas Boxes except for the Carrs arrived in time for the holiday. If it were not for Katy and Clover sharing their bounty, our holiday would have been bleak indeed. They shared the contents with everyone, including the staff. They set a fine example for us all. Needless to say we shared our boxes with them when ours finally arrived. Cook's fruit cake was well received. I have written to Sylvia to thank her for the umbrella and the candles, but if you would also mention I let you know how pleased I was, I would be most obliged. 

I had to hold in my scream of pleasure when I unwrapped your gift. The second set of gloves was positively inspired as I was able to show them around. I have the other gloves secreted in my second drawer beneath my underthings. Miss Jane has been impressed at how tidy I have become. I prepared them as you showed me last holidays, pulling all of the fingers and thumb inside save the middle one and stuffing it quite firmly. The leather is remarkably soft and the fawn color so pretty, although as you may guess, it has already darkened quite a bit.

We decided the left glove would be for Mary and the right glove for me. They and the bottle of oil were put to good use that very night. I tipped the smallest amount of oil over Mary's right breast to begin with and massaged it in with my fingers. Her skin positively gleamed in the candlelight and I simply had to do the same for the other before proceeding with anything else. She has the sweetest little bubbies with the pinkest of nips that I cannot resist playing with, and you may guess at how they stiffened even more when I ran the glove over them. 

There were screams of pleasure from Mary too, when I dripped the oil onto her quim and tickled her nub of flesh with the leather. She had to stuff her fist into her mouth to muffle her cries lest she disturb everyone on the landing. Later, I held her in my arms and kissed her, even as she made me oily too. Eventually I pushed my glove into her hand. “Please,” I begged in the prettiest way I could. I believe she has learned much from me as she teased me dreadfully before finally using it as I had done on her. 

Yours in appreciation,  
Rose Red

 

_Hillsover, February, 1869_

To my valentine, Charlotte,

February has made up for the dullness of January. We have been a hive of industry here at the Nunnery. We have been doing tatting and fancy-work and delcalcomanie, and our studies are bowers to behold. There was a short craze of collecting autographs, but I fancy mine took the prize. I will bring my album when I visit next and you can read for yourself the sentiments from 'Alphonso of Castile' and 'Potemkin Montmorency'.

Mrs Nipson announced a Soiree, but only those whose records were blemish free for a month could attend. Alas, Katy, Mary and I were amongst the unlucky ones. Clover however was able to be there. We helped her dress and she looked as pretty as a picture when we finished with her. We naughty nuns were able to watch some of the fun from the head of the stairs. Clover spent some time conversing with your father. I love him so much. He got us some cake so we did not miss out on everything.

Valentine's Day was fun and I thank you for yours. Of course I knew it was from you. Mary and I shared the chocolate, as was your intention, I am sure. We invented our own fun way of eating it, which I will tell you so you may try it too. You hold the edge of the chocolate above a candle flame until it starts to melt and then you draw little heart shapes on the other person and lick them off. Mary thinks we should get some syrup and some artist brushes and paint ourselves with syrup hearts, and I am sure that would work just fine, except there is never a drop of syrup to be had in the Nunnery.

I am counting the days until I can see you again,  
Your loving Rose Red

 

_Hillsover, March, 1869_

Charlotte, Charlotte, Charlotte!

I am so excited I simply had to put your name three times! And here is another exclamation point ! Congratulations and felicitations and all my best love to you. I cannot believe you are engaged to be married. Your mother invited me to take tea and told me the glad tidings. The very next post contained your letter and I got excited all over again. 

I was delighted to learn you will remain in Boston for some time to come as the wedding will not take place for a year because Papa has written to inform me I will not be returning to the Nunnery. We will therefore be able to spend some time together before you join the ranks of the old married women. I broke the news to Mary I will not be back next year. She was inconsolable for quite half an hour. We have vowed to spend every night until we part in each other's arms and that we would do all the things that we liked best at least once more.

And so we have played with water – warm, that my favorite maid Annie brought up for us, and once with cold, when we made each other grow goose flesh and shiver. I found that bottled raspberries made an ideal substitute for syrup. You've no idea how pretty I made Mary when I painted her lips and her nips with crimson juice. I had to send my towels to be specially cleaned. Annie arranged it for me, but they still appear faintly pink if one looks closely. Mary adorned me with crimson hearts in return, drawing them around every dimple I possess, and you know that is quite a few.

Last night I devoted myself to placing kisses on every inch of Mary's fair skin. It was quite a challenge and one we both thoroughly enjoyed. I do not think I ever kissed her toes before. She also has an elegant turn of ankle and I spent at least five minutes on her left one alone. Have I mentioned how ticklish she is around her belly? I confess I stuck my tongue into her belly button over and over just to make her giggle. She is a sight to behold when she is spread out on the bed, flushed and breathless after my attentions. I did not believe her cheeks could get any redder, but when she opened her thighs she turned as red as my beloved roses and indicated there was one more place I had yet to kiss. I felt my heart turn over in my chest at the very thought of placing my lips there and I guess my smile practically split my face in two. Ever so gently I kissed her eyelids, her nose, her mouth and her breasts, which I briefly suckled before setting my lips against her quim. I admit it took me several minutes to work out the best way to make her moan in that way she does, but I eventually got it right and she spent right over my mouth, just as much she does when we play with the gloves. Tonight it is her turn to do the same to me. I have thought about little else all day and received two bad marks from Miss Jane for “distraction”.

I look forward to being with you soon, dear Charlotte,  
Your very affectionate,  
Rose Red

END

**Author's Note:**

> OFC Charlotte Seccomb is the elder daughter of Professor & Mrs Seccomb, sister of Alfred (family friends of Rose's family). She was sent to Boston to live with relatives near the Reddings for a while to escape a scandal.


End file.
